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I fight my husband's killers with laughter

For Mariane Pearl, love and marriage overcame the loss of her father, who had killed himself when she was a girl. Then her husband was murdered by Al-Qaeda. Now their son is helping her to rebuild her life once more

The storm is over, and it feels as if the elements are coming back to their senses. Paris bathes in a soft spring light, and my father is taking me for a ride on one of his seven motorcycles. I pride myself on being a perfect passenger. I am only eight, so I cannot stretch my arms around my father’s waist, but I grab his jacket and follow faithfully the curves of his body when he makes a turn. The roads are still wet, but soon the sun will warm us through our black leather suits.

The purpose of our expedition is to visit a Metro station. More specifically, to see the layers of torn and peeling posters that remain on an advertisement panel. When we get to the Metro my father buys two tickets.

Inside, above the track, I see my father’s discovery, a giant kaleidoscope of colours in